CHAPTER II.
HOODIE GOES IN SEARCH OF A GRANDMOTHER.
"I care for nobody, no, not I,
And nobody cares for me!"
Martin went on with her story:
"'Janie!' cried grandmother when she saw me. 'What a nice picture they make—my little granddaughter and your great dog—don't they?' she said to the gamekeeper.
"'And it was your basket, little Janie, that he found at the stile, then,' said the dog's master, and then he and grandmother explained, that walking along the road—grandmother was going up with him to see his wife who was ill—the dog who was following them had suddenly darted to one side and then crept from under the hedge with the basket in his mouth. They couldn't think whose it was, for no one was to be seen about, but when grandmother started to come home again the dog would follow her with it still in his mouth, so Roberts, that was the man's name, came along with her to see the end of it. Now wasn't it clever of the dog to know it was mine and bring it to me like that?"
"Very," said the children. "But mightn't your grandmother have known it was your mother's basket?" said Magdalen.
"It was a common enough one, but if she had looked inside she'd have known mother's butter and cake, I daresay," said Martin. "But the funny thing was, the dog would let no one touch it but me—he growled at grandmother when she tried to look in, but he stood by and saw me take out the things and just wagged his tail."
"And did zou have nice tea, and cake, Martin?" said Hec.